


The Dance

by Hexiva



Category: Legion (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dissociative Identity Disorder, M/M, Multiple Personalities, Surreal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 21:11:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17454392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hexiva/pseuds/Hexiva
Summary: At the end, after all the secrets have been uncovered and all of the delusions have been unveiled, David and the Shadow King fight their last battle.





	The Dance

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Erisden for helping me come up with the ideas for this fic!

The ballroom is made of white stone, with a vast blue ceiling curving up to a bright round light, set in the center like the sun at midday. Great stone pillars prop stretch from the ground to the ceiling, and between them, the floor is empty.

David strides out into the center of the dance floor. “Farouk!” he calls out. “I know you’re here. You can’t hide from me anymore.”

“Who said anything about hiding?” Farouk asks, and David whirls around to see him leaning against one of the pillars, his arms crossed, that infuriating smile on his lips. He stands up straight and walks towards David - slowly, with purpose. “Have you saved a last dance for me,  _ joonam?”  _

“I’m tired of waiting,” David tells him. “I’m tired of being afraid. I’m tired of hiding. I’m tired of losing everything I love to you.” He sticks out a hand, his eyes fixed on Farouk’s, challenging. “So, yeah. Come on. Let’s dance.”

Farouk takes David’s hand, and a Pink Floyd song starts to play. Farouk takes the lead, his hand around David’s back. The light above dims down to focus on them, and below them, their shadows start to fight, shifting and turning into monstrous forms. But here, in the ballroom, everything is at peace.

Farouk swirls David around gracefully. “So,” he says. “We have danced before. What makes you think you can win this time? Do you have an, uh, an ‘ace up your sleeve’?”

“No,” David says. “It’s more than that.” Farouk dips him, and he looks up at his enemy, his eyes still steely. “This time,” he says, “I’m going to win because I know what you are.”

Farouk chuckles and rights him. “And what is that, pray tell?” he asks, mockingly. “A parasite? A monster? A villain?”

David catches Farouk’s hand in his and does a turn, under Farouk’s arm, matching him step for step. “No,” David says. “None of those things.”

Farouk takes a step forward, both of David’s hands in his, their faces close. “Then what am I?” he asks.

“You’re part of me,” David says, and Farouk stumbles, misses a step.

David catches him, and now he’s leading the dance, pulling Farouk into another turn around the dance floor. On the wall behind them, Farouk’s shadow bleeds. 

“I was right the first time,” David says, supporting Farouk. “They told me I wasn’t mentally ill. They told me you were a monster. But none of those things were true.”

Farouk clings to him, his body tense, his steps uncertain. _“Nein,”_ he says. “I am the King. I am not your shadow.” 

“Maybe that was true once,” David says, gently. “Maybe there was a real Amahl Farouk once. But you’re not him. You’re  _ me.” _

Farouk misses another step, and his sunglasses fall from his face, strike the ground, shatter into a million pieces. “No -  _ in doroogh ast -  _ that’s a  _ lie -” _

“No,” David says, pushing his advantage, each step forcing Farouk a little closer to the wall. “I always knew it. All those voices in my head - you were always one of them. My phantom limb.”

Farouk’s fingers are digging into David’s hands. _ “Ce n'est pas possible,”  _ he hisses. “I remember - I remember - I had a life before you!” His back hits the wall, and he lets go of David’s hands, scrabbling at the stone behind him as if he could scrape through it and be gone. 

“A delusion starts like any other idea,” David tells him. “As an egg.” He catches Farouk’s hands and pull them away from the wall before he can hurt himself. “It’s all right. You don’t have to be afraid of me. You’re part of me and I’m - I’m part of you. I made up a monster in my head and then I chased it away. But I know now. That won’t work. If I want to be at peace - I have to make peace with my monsters. I have to be whole again.”

“No!” Farouk hisses, struggling against David’s grip. “You can’t  _ \- nein, nein, nein - ” _

“It’s okay,” David says, taking a deep breath. “It’ll be okay. It won’t hurt. It’ll be like coming home.”

“No!” Farouk frees his right hand, and presses it against David’s chest. “Don’t do this. Kill me instead. Let me die free.”

“I’m not going to do that to you,” David says, evenly.

“Please -  _ David -  _ Look at me.  _ Look at me.  _ I am here. I am  _ real.  _ I am not - ” Farouk’s hand clenches, bunching up the fabric of David’s shirt. “I am not a figment of your imagination.  _ I exist.” _

David thinks it might be the first time Farouk’s ever called him by his real name, not by some patronizing term of endearment or some insulting nickname. “I’m sorry,” David tells him. “I’m sorry I let you think that. I’m sorry I fought you for so long.”

“No!” Farouk begs, and David catches his right hand in David’s own, pulling it away from his chest.

“Just relax,” he tells Farouk. “It’ll be over soon. Just close your eyes, and we’ll be back the way we were supposed to be.”

He leans in to press his lips to Farouk’s forehead. And on the wall behind them, as the music comes to a close, their shadows merge together.

David stands up. He’s alone again, in the white ballroom, just him an his shadow.

“I’ll remember for you,” he says, to the shadow on the wall. “I won’t forget you, I promise.”


End file.
